Chapter 32
Jersey
I think it's just par for the course at this point.
Why would the bad guys still be at the hotel in Dayton when I arrive? Why would I have something to do that keeps me away from Gatlinburg for an extended period of time?
Maybe because that's what I need right now, and life always has a way of refusing me.
I took my bike from the cabin, a decision I regretted fifteen minutes into the drive north, but I didn't turn back around. If I was focusing on preventing frostbite on my face and hands then maybe my mind wouldn't wander to her.
Fat fucking chance.
She's all that I can seem to think of. No matter how many times I've forced myself to think of anything else, my mind always circles back.
"When did they leave?" I ask, leaning in toward the front desk clerk.
The guy looks high as a kite, but I wouldn't expect much more in a place like this .
He shrugs, not bothering to pull his eyes from his phone.
Irritation swims inside of me, and it takes all I have not to pull the guy over the counter and curb-stomp his face into the shitty, stained carpet. It's unlikely that anyone connected to trafficking or Nathan Adair would confide in a guy like this, but they may have underestimated his lack of attention. It's possible he heard or saw something that would help me track them to their next stop.
"When. Did. They. Leave?" I growl again, the animosity in my tone drawing his attention finally.
"I don't know, man. I had two days off and when I got back to work tonight they were gone. Did you need a room or some shit?"
I swallow down my frustration. "I want to speak with housekeeping."
"We don't keep housekeeping staff overnight," the guy says waving his arm to indicate the entirety of the hotel. "If you haven't noticed this isn't exactly a five-star sort of place."
"When do they get here in the morning?" I ask looking down at my watch and realizing it's later than I thought.
"Noon."
"Noon?"
"People around here don't check out early, man. Plus, I got word that the two women who were working housekeeping quit the other night. Don't know what the owner plans to do about that shit, but I'm not changing cum-covered fucking sheets again," he says before mumbling more as he looks down at his phone.
The women working housekeeping quitting is a very bad sign. It's Adair's MO to take women from one location to sell them in the next, and it seems even with the leader's death, it's still business as usual .
A quick glance around the lobby tells me they aren't even pretending to have a security system around. I have no doubt that's why this place is so appealing to all of them. They pay cash to desk clerks who don't ask questions.
There will be no leads, and sticking around will only be a waste of time, but it doesn't make me any less angry. More women have been victimized and I don't have a single fucking clue as to where they were going next.
North takes them to Detroit. South goes to Cincinnati. East and West would take them to Columbus and Indianapolis. Dayton is the perfect fucking place to disappear. Even in death, Adair is able to stay operational.
I grind my teeth as I head back out into the cold. My leather gloves creak as I ball my hands into fists. There seems to be no fucking end to the way people hurt others, and it's absolutely appalling the way people use others for financial gain. They're sick and depraved and leave these women mere shells of themselves.
Saving them is great. It looks incredible on paper, but many of the women we encounter never get back to what society would consider normal, and how can we even expect them to after enduring so much trauma? Cerberus always provides safety and counseling, but it doesn't always work. Some women end up right back in the same situation because it's all they know. Sometimes they seek out the group who hurt them in the first place because they were abused so badly they fear for their lives even after safety is provided.
The idea of something happening like that to Caitlyn, and that's what has caused her trauma makes me want to rage at the entire world. I don't know why I didn't consider it before with the work I've done my entire life and the things I've seen.
Jesus fucking Christ, what have I done ?
I told a woman who had clearly gone through something terrible that all I could give her was sex. She's been hurt, and I just proved that all men are fucking dogs by practically telling her she's only worth a couple of good fucks.
My entire body is trembling as I climb on my bike, making me regret, not for the first time tonight, that I took this out instead of one of the SUVs.
In hiding what I can't seem to get past, I have no doubt hurt her further.
It was never my intention.
I care for her. That's clear by the way I can't seem to get her out of my mind, and I know I could've handled things much better than I did.
It would've been ten times better if I had just put an end to what we were doing. I could've cited the conflict of interest considering she's Eli's therapist.
But instead, I told her where I stood, and then had sex with her again. I devalued her in the worst way, and I can only imagine what a strike to her psyche it was for me to carry through with the physical part of what I had to offer.
That fucking tear.
It's all I can think about as I rev my bike and point it south.
I hurt her without meaning to. I hurt her without consideration of why she might be the way she is.
I hurt her, and there's a part of me that will always hate myself for doing it because I can't get the woman out of my mind.
She's more than a quick fuck, and I knew that the second I told her that's all I had to offer.
She's a once-in-a-lifetime kind of woman, and the idea of that scared the ever-living fuck out of me, and instead of being a grown-ass man about it and trying to figure out why she seemed so important to me, I cut her deep.
I devalued her, offering only something physical, and probably from her past abuse, made her think that was all she was worth.
She told me she deserved better, and even though I readily agreed with her, she still sat on my bed the other night waiting for me to show up. She still took from me the only thing I told her I could offer, and it cut her even deeper than the conversation about it had.
A horn blares and I barely have time to swerve before ramming my bike in to the side of a pickup truck.
My hands are shaking as I manage to pull over on the side of the road. I'm so distracted that I just ran a red light. I wasn't going too fast, but it could've ended very badly with me on the bike.
I'm going to get myself killed before I can make the five-hour drive back to Gatlinburg.
I pull in several deep breaths and allow my mind to run through all the things that concern Caitlyn before shoving it all aside, if only long enough to make it back home.
The drive is brutal, and by the time I pull up in front of the cabin, my entire body feels like a block of fucking ice.
It's mid-morning, and I shouldn't be surprised to see Caitlyn's car parked out front, but I hasten my steps to get inside, worried that something might have happened while I was gone.
She's been meeting with Eli four times a week for several months now, so it makes sense for her to be here, but my head is running through a litany of awful things that might've gone wrong considering what she has been going through recently.
I freeze in the middle of the living room, drawing the eyes of everyone inside when I spot her sitting on the floor and smiling as she and Eli talk softly to each other .
Relief washes over me like a calming wave at the sight of her, and I don't let it affect me when she glances up, notices me, and then immediately pulls her attention back to Eli.
I swallow as I take another step forward, but now isn't the time nor the place to have a conversation with her.
I walk out of the room, my hackles going up when the sound of another pair of boots follows me from the room.
I know it's Jericho hot on my tail without having to look over my shoulder, but instead of turning to face him, I hit the stairs, taking them up two at a time, needing to put some distance between Caitlyn and myself, if only so she doesn't witness the man punching me in the fucking face for being such a colossal asshole to her.
Surprisingly, he follows me into my room, and although we've all lived here for months now, no other Cerberus member has been in here. Sticking their head inside to remind me of a meeting or to ask me if I want to take a hike through the woods is as far as they've come.
The two of us inside make the adequate room feel so much smaller than it really is.
He's seething when I turn to face him, and I know the man is allowed his feelings, but having anyone else worried about Caitlyn makes me want to punch him in the face and claim her safety and well-being for myself.
"What did you do to her?" he snaps.
"What's wrong?" I ask, concerned that I was right about something happening while I was gone. "Did that motherfucker go to her house last night?"
"She didn't have any trouble at her house," he says, and sudden relief hits me again, much the same way it did when I saw her in the living room a few minutes ago. "So her planning to move out of town has nothing to do with you?"
"What?" I growl. "She's moving?"
"Yes, and I have no doubt it has everything to do with you," he snaps, taking a step closer.
I deserve everything he has to offer, but I don't have fucking time right now to take an ass beating from him.
"She has that stalker," I say, but it's a weak excuse at best.
Moving to a different place makes sense, leaving the area entirely seems a bit extreme.
"What the fuck am I supposed to do about Eli?" he growls. "I told you to stay the fuck away from her."
"I'll fix it," I say, but my tone lacks the confidence I'm trying to force myself to feel.
"You fucking better," he says before turning and leaving my room.
I drop down to my bed, exhaustion running over my entire body, and I know it has more to do with that than having ridden over ten hours recently on my bike. The idea of losing her makes my skin crawl, the fear of her being gone and in a place where we can't protect her is stronger than any misgivings I had about getting too close to her.
I drop my head into my hands, but deep breaths aren't offering any relief. I leave my room, heading downstairs and outside to wait for Eli's session to end.
I can't let this woman walk away, and I won't take no for an answer.